uting from below, but, as God so willed it, without so much as a
glance. Over the lair of the picket they flew, with only the orders
"Come on!" Away over the elastic "bench" they dashed, hot-foot for the
bivouac, and Drum, the veteran, saw them coming like the wind, and read
their tale and the instant need. "Saddle up!" he shouted, while the
group was still afar. "Jump for it, men! There's not a second to lose!"

Up from their blankets sprang the few sleepers. In from their stations
scurried the outlying sentries. Rattle went the bits between the teeth
of the excited chargers. Slap went the saddles on the broad, glossy
backs. There was hurry and rush and swift leaping for arms, the snap of
cinchas, the snorting of steeds, yet not a word was spoken until the
low order to lead into line; and straightway old Drum marshalled his
men, silent, yet with hearts beating like hammers, and then down their
front rode their youthful lieutenant, a stranger to all but a month
agone, yet now they lived on his slightest word. Oh, what
thoughts--what thoughts of mother and home, and the brave old days of
boyhood and the Point, had been winging through his brain during the
long hours of the day! But now--now there was no time for thought!
There was time only for action; for a fellow-man lay in deadly peril,
in dreadful torment, only a short mile away.

"Not a sound--not a shot, men," he ordered, as the quivering line
reined up before him. "Follow our lead, stampede the ponies, and charge
through the crowd; then rally quick as you can."

Splash! drove the leaders into the shallows. Breast deep, foaming, they
spurred through the stream, the troop plunging after, with carbines
slung over their shoulders. Out on the opposite bank and up to the
"bench" they swarmed, then veered away northward over the resounding
level, Geordie and Connell, classmates and chums, bounding away in
advance. No danger of Indian eyes or ears, no dread of hindering shot
or ambush. When the pale-face writhes at the torture stake, even Indian
vedette forgets his trade for the lust of such luxury as witnessing
that. Up into line with the leading four galloped the chargers in rear.
On toward the leaping flames in the grove led those lithe young riders
ahead. Mad with excitement, some nervous new horses snatched at their
bits and burst from the line, and Geordie, glancing back, saw them
gaining in spite of restraining hand. What mattered it, anyhow?
Every second was pre